


Same Time Next Year

by quartetship



Series: A Fairy Tale [5]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Birthday, Fairy!Marco, Gift Work, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 08:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6899302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartetship/pseuds/quartetship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My <i>birthday</i>?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Time Next Year

**Author's Note:**

> Self-indulgent birthday themed fluff from the fairy!Marco universe, originally written and posted for the birthday of my dear sweet friend Dani!
> 
> \--

"My _birthday?"_

Marco sat, perched on Jean's bedside table at a size something like a house cat, looking back at Jean quizzically. Jean pulled an amused grin and nodded.

"You know, the day you celebrate being born? Parties, cake, that whole thing? When's yours?"

Shaking his head, Marco crossed his legs and swung his feet over the table's edge, growing in size until he was comparable to Jean again. "I... don't know that I've ever _had_ a birthday."

Jean's face fell, and he sat heavily on the side of his bed, scratching at the back of his neck. "Well obviously you've had birthdays. Maybe you just haven't _celebrated_ them. Which is a crime, in itself."

"I mean, I was born once, of course," Marco reasoned, "But I don't remember celebrating it, even when I was human. And _since_ then..." He trailed off, tugging at the ends of his wings as he folded them over his shoulders. Jean frowned. Could Marco really not even remember when his own birthday was? He shook his head and reached out to clasp Marco's knee.

"It's not that important, if you don't remember. Maybe we can just pick a day and do something, then."

Marco shrugged. "I believe I was born in warm weather. My mother always complained of how hot she was when she carried me. Maybe... Maybe I was born around this time?"

"In June?" Jean asked, smile lifting again. "That sounds right. June's sunny and bright, and all. Definitely very Marco."

His wings fluttering, Marco shifted on his perch, the first blooms of blush lighting his cheeks. "Well, if you'd like, we can say that, then. I was born in June. We'll just pick a day, and--"

"Today." Jean said decidedly. Marco blinked at him.

"Today?"

"Mhm. Seems like a good enough day, doesn't it? Now pick some clothes and get ready; we're going into town to that little bakery you like."

"The Flour Patch?!" Marco squeaked, his wings perking up to match his face. He reined himself in after a moment, though, folding them behind him again and wringing his hands. "You don't have to do something for me, you know."

"But I _want_ to," Jean countered. "You've been at least four hundred years without a good birthday celebration. Least I can do is buy you a few pastries."

\--

They walked out of the little bakery a few hours later, their stomachs full, fingers still covered in powdered sugar and a large, white bag, tucked beneath Jean's arm, full of things to take home for the following day. On the walk home, Marco laced his sticky, sweet fingers with Jean's and gave him a bashful smile.

"That was really lovely," he murmured, the flowers of his blush returning. "Thank you."

He was so adorable, so much sweeter than any confection - Jean couldn't help but lean in and steal a kiss from him.

"You're welcome, love." He grinned. "What say we do this again sometime, hm?"

Marco breathed a laugh, nodding. "How about same time, next year?"


End file.
